...best to stay sleepin'...

Today was rather disappointing. I got to school around quarter to eight, even though I need to be there at eleven thirty. I passed the first hour there writing my thoughts in my journal, thoughts that I have no wish to repeat here. After that, Tiff showed up and taught me how to make paper cranes, which we did on and off until it was time to pick up report cards, only stopping to go for a walk and buy coffee from Starbucks.

I already knew my marks before I got my report card, because they were posted outside classrooms and I checked beforehand. I'm so glad that my parents are more forgiving this year and are not pushing me to get straight A's, so I will get away with my C in French without too much punishment. Stupid French-speaking bitch. I would have at least gotten a C+ had she not lost that damn l'environnement project.

Afterwards Katie, SUS and I found ourselves in Lougheed Mall, where we eventually ended up in the bookstore, all of us either feeling particularly stingy with money that day, of just not having any money to spend. I spent about two hours in the bookstore before dad picked me up and bought me a book, just so I would shut up about not having any reading material.

And that was my day...

...Far far away from here...

Now I feel too sick to concentrate on writing about my weekend.

Blah, report cards tomorrow. I don't want to know what I got in French.

On the bright side, I'm also buying a camera tomorrow...if I don't die first from telling Beckie that I won't be dancing at Golden Spike Days. She didn't get to see me dance at Coquitlam Festival because her competition was after mine. I'm sorry, dear. I love you.

Anyways, I'm going to go back to being bored out of my mind now. I hate living here.

So tired.

Details about dance shows tomorrow. I'm too tired and not awake enough to type.

My knee hurts like hell.

I can't wait until Sunday.

Sonia is leaving for Texas for a year on Sunday. She is annoying the hell out of me. Honestly, I couldn't care less about how many time she has claimed to have sex. And how she did drugs last night. And how she is currently getting shitfaced somewhere with her friends...

Let us hope she's well enough to dance tomorrow for the shows.

This is me right now:

Not the best picture of me, but it accurately describes my mood. That was me after a dance competition last month.

I finally got my dance pictures yesterday, and I am happy to say that for once, they actually look good. I am becoming photogenic again. The solo picture of me in my cowboy costume, is especially nice. Much better than Erin's anyways, since I got the better pose. Hmmm, that smile reminds me of a certain picture of a certain four year old that I like to carry around in my purse. The picture of my sister and I for our duo doesn't look too bad either. The only problem, is that my mom never took in my vest, so it bags out and makes me look fat. My group picture is decent and Thomas looks funny. I also picked up Erin's hip hop picture. Erin is really pale compared to everyone else. Anyways, as soon as I get a scanner that works, I shall post one or two of them.

Tomorrow I shall be spending all day in PoCo. We have a three or four hour break in between the shows, so Erin, Mao, Sonia, and I will all go out for lunch. Then maybe play in sprinklers like Erin, Sonia, Jessica, Stephanie, and I did last year, when we got back to the theatre and found that all the doors were locked and we couldn't get in.

My dance teacher thinks I'm on drugs. I don't know why.

I am suffering from lack of jewelry. It's all in my dance bag, which is hanging up with my costumes in a locked changeroon in Terry Fox. All I have right now, is two brown hair elastics with four bobby pins attached to them on my right wrist, but I will need those later when I am forced to put my hair into french braids again.

Not that I have anything better to do, but I am bored of this. I think I will wander off and make cookies.

I think the hairspray has screwed up my brain.

I'm home from dance now, finally. Actually, this tech rehearsal wasn't as bad as previous ones, only lasting about four hours. I spent the whole time either hanging out in the changerooms, or wandering around. The changerooms are fun because we are in the actual changerooms with the adults, so we don't have a bunch of little children running around and stealing our stuff. Of course, the changerooms are not that big, so it gets hot in there really quickly. There is a reason why I spent most of my time in there wearing only yoga pants and a sports bra. Robynne is so funny because she is sure that someone is going to open one of the doors while she's changing, and gets all paranoid, while the rest of us just strip down and search for costume pieces in our underclothes. The male runners always knock anyways...except Adam. He's acting a little creepy this year anyways. Joey was spreading rumours to all the younger boys, about how I punched his arm and gave him a giant bruise, and now they are all afraid of me. I told them it wasn't me because I punch like a sissy girl, which unfortunately is very true. He still wouldn't tell me how he got that bruise though... It was also nice to see Luke. He doesn't hate me anymore. I still don't know why he was pissed at me in the first place. It's funny to see that although he's as good a dancer as always, he still has almost no stage presence. I met a bunch of new people today, and hung out with others who I haven't seen since the year end shows last year. One of the girls in my changeroom goes to Best, so she was filling me in on the lives of a few friends who are in the French Emmersion program there. Apparently DD is a slut now. Who knew?

So I survived, but my back hurts from a certain someone who spent all day using me as a pillow *Cough.* Tomorrow and Saturday are going to be long, but I've been doing this for almost twelve years. Nothing changes during these things, except my age. I need sleep. Today has been busy. Goodnight.

Did you know that the Monday Report is being moved to Tuesday?

So, Rick Mercer has a blog and Erin is completely obsessed. Seriously, she won't shut up. I like Rick Mercer too, but this is getting quite annoying:

"Abby, have you read the part about Don Boudria and Jason Kenney?"

"Yes, I read it ten minutes ago."

"It's hilarious."

"I know."

"...Jason told Boudria it was his own fault for not registering his own domain name..."

"Erin."

"What?"

"Shut up."

She has quieted down somewhat now, but I still hear the occasional snort of laughter.

And you don't care if you're late, and you don't care if you're lost...

I suppose the reason why I am listening to Jack the Ripper by Colin Meloy so much these days is because it reflects my mood. It's sad, dark and lonely, and hints stalking people. I'm referring to the two creepy men who somehow got my email; I do not wish to stalk anyone myself. Sigh, I suppose this means that I may be changing my email once again very soon, much as I do not want to.

So what do we do now...collapse?

Today has been very tiring.

It started off with me waking up the same time I do every day, partially because I had things to do and didn't want to sleep in, and partially because my parents were making too much noise and it was really bright in the living room anyways. As soon as my parents left, I had a shower, then got ready to leave, and left for school just before eight thirty. On my way to the bus station I made a detour to Rogers Video and returned Meet The Fockers. The bus was non exciting, but I'll mention more about that later. I got to school just before ten and finished my lantern, but despite my heroic efforts to do a good job, my final mark in the course is only eighty three percent. Damn. I packed up all of the left over projects I had made, except half of my independent study piece, which, no matter where I looked, I couldn't find, in a box and carried it around for the next oh...over six hours. Krisha, I have your carrot. Remind me to give it to you next time I see you. After waiting about half an hour to get all my stuff marked, I left around twelvish, and walked to Starbucks where I bought a frappe and called random people that I knew because I was bored. Afterwards, I walked to Subway, where I bought lunch, and then sat there for almost an hour and for a while just stared at people and ate, then pulled out my journal and started taking notes. Keep in mind that it was hot out and my brain turned to mush on Friday and has not returned to its original non-mush form. Here's what it said:

In Subway, just saw Whitney Sousa. It's been forever. She didn't recognize me. A woman just left wearing Japanese-style dress, which looked very nice, although I have no idea how she could survive the heat, it being at least thirty degrees out and she wearing black. Nothing interesting happened on the bus; an uptight-looking woman wearing a red, summery dress, sat down near me. She had a tattoo of a happy, bouncing Tigger above her right ankle. It really didn't seem to suit her. In Starbucks, the barista admired my purse, and I saw an Asian woman, her shirt tucked in, and her jeans, complete with elastic waistband, pulled up abnormally high. It looked like it hurt. It's really hot out, and I'm bored out of my mind. It almost makes me wish I was at home. No it doesn't. Nevermind. I'm staked out in Subway, not leaving until I find something to do. The woman two booths ahead of me looks familiar. I think her name is Amanda. She works for the city. One of the teachers at Moody Elementary drives a pink car. I can't see Mr. Egelstad's car from here. I wonder if he still works there. I do see both Miss Moffatt's and Mme. Carr's vehicles, Mme. Carr's well-known for the Beautiful British Columbia custom license plate that says MME CAR. A class is returning to Moody from Rocky Point. Does this mean the pool's finally open? I wouldn't know. I don't live there anymore. And there goes another class. Or two. Or three. They seem to be older grades. Holy shit, I didn't know Moody Elementary had that many people these days. Ever since they lost the people in grade's six and seven to middle school back when I was in grade two, they haven't had more than about one hundred fifty people at a time. Wait...I didn't see any of them heading into the school. Maybe they are from Moody Middle. That would make sense. The people at the next booth over keep on staring at me for some odd reason. There is nobody buying sandwiches at the moment. I am going to listen to music if my mp3 player isn't dead yet. The woman who is probably named Amanda and the older woman she was talking to, who looked suspiciously like her mother, just left. The people who were staring at me are also leaving. Listening to Nietzsche by the Dandy Warhols. Some guy just bought a newspaper, then smiled at me. Two guys wearing geeky looking glasses have being talking since before I got here. Man who bought a newspaper just put another one on the counter and left. It's one of those daily ones. My pen is running out ink. I do not have another one. Oh look, it's working again. Ooooo, pink car is leaving. There suddenly seems to be a lot of traffic. Hmmmm...I think I'll go to the mall.

About thirty seconds after writing this, I left Subway and started walking to the bus stop. The two guys wearing glasses were still talking when I left. As I was walking along the street, I man in a white truck honked his horn and waved at me. I didn't get a good look at the person, but have come to the conclusion that it was either Luke's dad, or my uncle. I got on the bas, and made it to the mall, the whole time entertained be a little two year old boy sitting near me, who was sitting on his mother's lap and spitting out random words. On my way into the mall, I made three people's days, when I let them see my bag and touch it. They were so thrilled. People actually think it's an actual watering can. At the mall, I wandered around and...shopped. I bought a bathing suit finally, three guesses as to which colour it is, but I still need to buy another one-piece for when I start swimming on the fourth. I bought some other stuff, but nothing worth mentioning. I also met up with Erin, who bought cheap sandals and two pairs of Capri’s. we browsed for cameras, and I think I know which one I want, but I'm going to buy it next week. We spent a lot of time just wandering around, killing time, because we had nothing better to do. We were thirsty, so I bought us a root beer float from A&W. Afterwards we walked to the library, where I paid off some really old fines and got a new card since I'm not a child anymore and my card was expired anyways. We spent some time there, then walked to White Spot to eat dinner. Mom told us that she would pick us up there and pay the bill. We ate as slowly as we could, but it being Monday, the service was really fast. We phoned mom and she said to order dessert, so we did, but we were already really full. That piece of pie was really hard to eat. The parents picked us up and I was dropped off at pathfinders only an hour late. It was rather disappointing, although I have become used to boring meetings over the past year, but it was nice to see some of those people again. I got my service star, a CD with a slideshow of what we've done over the year (really short because we didn't do anything), and an anklet from Laura, identical to the ones she gave to the other third years. Amber and I have agreed to get together and hang out over the summer. When all that was over I was picked up, and we went to the dance school to wait for Erin to get put of dance. Before we got there however, we stopped at Dairy Queen, where, for the first time ever, I passed up ice cream at Dairy Queen. Don't worry, it was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. We picked up Erin and came home, where I have been typing almost constantly ever since. Not. Anyways, if I want to get up any time before noon tomorrow, I should probably go to bed, as it is almost twelve thirty. Goodnight.

This is what happens when I have to spend the whole day with my family. It almost makes you miss school.

Apparently Mikhael's cellphone is possessed and he is afraid to go to bed. Hmmmmmm...not something I would expect from him. Now he is talking about little people who live in cellphones. Wow.

Well, this weekend has been interesting. Yesterday we went to this annual aboriginal celebration, where my dad was a special honoured guest, even though our roots are purely European. I personally went for the smoked salmon. Today was Father's Day, so we spent the day at home. It was pleasant, I guess, but I have become so used to only seeing my family a grand total of about two hours a day, that this extra family contact was a bit overwhelming. Let's see, in no particular order...I put my father in a headlock after he tried to kill me with a handheld sanding machine, watched my father play with a staple gun, then was upset afterwards because he wouldn't let me use it for some odd reason (I do know how to use one; I'm not that dumb), actually ate breakfast for the first time in a while (after being assured by Erin that the pancake I was eating did not have any sort of banana products whatsoever), followed one of that cats around while she spoke to me, watched the bloopers from Meet the Fockers (oh dear, I promised Mr. Brinkman That I wouldn't review any movies over the summer holidays), accompanied my family while they went grocery shopping, and convinced them to buy butter toffee almonds (which were quite good, but didn't last long), ate some sort of lunch, which included sandwiches and celery with cream cheese, lay around in bed for hours pretending to be asleep, but actually not, washed the dishes, listened to Jack the Ripper, by Colin Meloy about eighteen times, wore man-shorts (yes, this is important enough to be mentioned), picked up random costume pieces up off the floor and put them away, spent a while wandering around my backyard, then came inside and played on of my favourite games, Vampire (where you stay inside and pretend that if you go outside into the sunlight, you'll die. I play it all the time when I'm at home and even at school. You people just don't notice), finally got Tony's msn, jumped around...a lot, poked my mom repeatedly until she got mad at me, ate dinner (which included grilled vegetables, halibut steaks, and a cous cous salad), then dessert, which was cake (and as I was bringing it out, I stumbled and nearly smashed it into my dad's face. There was writing that said: "Happy Father's Day," but as time went on, and more pieces of cake went missing, it soon said: "Happy Fat," and eventually just: "Ha Fat."), and FINALLY convinced my parents to let me buy a decent camera. My sister are going camera shopping this week, each for our own. I have a price range, since I don't currently have an income and I want to go to Europe sometime before I graduate. Erin's shall be more expensive because she A.) can afford it, and B.) actually wants one that costs that much. I have become less selfish and more stingy in my old age.

It was so hot out today. It reached almost thirty degrees.

Hey, weren't we supposed to go to Aggasiz and get water from the spring today? Whatever happened to that?

Anyways, I have to go to school tomorrow and finish that damn lantern project if I want to get an A in Ceramics. Afterwards, I will meet my sister at the mall, where we will go camera shopping. Then we shall go out for dinner, and sit around until about eight, when my mom will drop me off at pathfinders, drop my sister off at dance, and pick me up. It's our last meeting. I wasn't planning on going, but I want my ten year service star. Mom and dad will be at some golf tournament all day tomorrow, at least dad will, but mom is joining him for dinner. Therefore, I have to find some way to amuse myself all day in Port Moody/Coquitlam, with only my sister for company, and barely any money. Fun.

Blah, it has for some reason, taken me over two hours to write this. I suppose it was the online camera shopping and the fact that my dad was hovering. Again. I need sleep. Goodnight.

What the hell?

What is it with crazy stalker people and msn?

Thank goodness, it's over.

I'm done my exams, though haveing two exams, then dance practice all in one day has made me very overly-tired. Poor Beckie, she had four hours of dance after exams today.

While I recover my thinking abilities, here is the "Store Wars" movie to amuse you for a while.

One down, two to go.

I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.
I hate French.


Okay?

He calls himself Spencer...

Let's stop for a moment and talk about Jesus. Jesus likes to wear Hawaiian shirts. He walks with his arms at his sides, eyes staring straight ahead. I don't think I've ever heard him say more than a few words. For Halloween, he went as...Jesus; his friends were his apostles. Jesus likes to buy sandwiches at Tim Hortons. He plays the trombone. Today Jesus is wearing a black suit with a red shirt underneath. Today is his last day of school. He is graduating this year. Part of his grad comment included telling everybody that the secret to success is a well-kept beard...

...Sure Jesus, whatever you say.


^^That is about as religious as I'm ever going to get. I don't support organized religion.

Guess what? No really, I want you to guess. Oh, you'll never get it anyways. I got one hundred percent on the beaver vessel/sculpture that I made in ceramics. It was originally supposed to be some other type of, small furry rodent, but it was too fat, so it evolved to being a small, but equally furry rodent. In total, the whole thing took almost three weeks to make and glaze. It took me four days alone, to give it detail, and another three to glaze it.

Where's my camera, I want to take a picture of my arm. SUS drew my veins and wrote "I can see you!" on it.

Be warned children! I'm bringing my watering can bag to my exam tomorrow. And Friday. And Monday, when I go to school to finish that bloody lantern in Ceramics. Stupid thing looks like crap.

Anyways, must get on with studying...

Of school and empty lockers.

(Written in my journal, at school, before block one.)

It feels so weird to be sitting in the hall, same as every morning, but instead of a nice row of neat, rainbow-coloured lockers in front of you, there is a nice row of dejected rainbow-coloured lockers, some forlornly hanging half open. Also, you are sitting against a locker that has served you faithfully over the past year, now empty and cold, with the Merry Christmas message from Krystal written in window pen still there, your name erased from the message months ago. You had to throw away your locker decorations; you remorsefully ripped up the oh-so happy and inspirational signs like, "Everything you know is wrong," that you lovingly put together, yet you were glad to rid yourself of the pictures of the so-called "Hot Male Celebrities" that were your locker partner's contribution. You had to take home your Page-A-Day Bizaro calendar, already missing walking up to your locker every morning and ripping another page off to save so your sister can read them, knowing that you won't have the pleasure of doing that again until September. There is a noticeable lack of students in the halls, even for this early in the morning, but you are pleased to see that at least some of the regular people are still in their rightful places along the length of the hallway. It is also amusing to watch people you know, but find incredibly annoying, walk towards what was formerly their locker, hand out, ready to open the lock out of habit, only to suddenly remember, veer away, and continue on like nothing has happened. This is the way of life on the second to last day of school. You will miss your locker, the orange one that's right in the middle of the seventeen lockers that are between the two doors of Room 212, Mme. Bilodeau's art room. People are accumulating around you; normally they would be going to their lockers, but now they have nowhere better to go. Only two more days of this, then two more days of exams after that, and you are done for the year and don't have to worry anymore. This week will be hectic, but you will survive. You think.


Anyways, now that that's over...

We got our yearbooks today. I just love the picture of all the students at the grade nine assembly. We all look so bored. I look dead, but nobody will notice because they will all be looking at Megan, asleep beside me. The cross-country pictures just accentuate my ugly legs. Ewwwwwwww, Sean's hair is short and that is not cool. Hmmmm, speaking of Sean...I am NOT a BAT, Sean! And I also do not enjoy hearing you and PJ discuss castrating each other. Geez, how old are you again?

...I, want a God, who stays dead, not plays dead... I love the Dandy Warhols. Great Big Sea and The Hives are great for taking your mind off exams. Deep Purple not so much.

I'm going to go now. I need to have a shower before my dad decides it's too late to have one and turns the water off. Goodnight.

I have such an addictive nature. If I ever get into drugs, I'm screwed.

Anyone want to donate money to my cookie fund? I only have two more days to buy cookies from the cafeteria, and I don't think my mom would be very pleased if I spent the rest of the money in my wallet, which is a little over twenty dollars, on cookies. Hmmmmm, forty cookies, I don't even think they ever put that many out. Is one allowed to busk on school property? I could sing, "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me, oh cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C." It's an actual song, you know, I have it on CD. Erin needed Bein' Green once for a multimedia project four years ago, so my mom bought her the Sesame Street Platinum CD. I love the Cookie Monster. He is so blue and fuzzy.

By the way, never buy cookies from Tim Hortons. Although they cost the same, they are really crappy.

Can you tell I'm deprived?

Arg!

My dad turned the water off on me while I was in the middle of my shower. I didn't even get the chance to wash the shampoo out of my hair. He could have waited another ten minutes; I was almost done. If I come to school tomorrow with really greasy hair, you'll know why.

You know what? Fuck it. I'll finish washing my hair in the sink when he falls asleep.

I hate studying.

I mean, I only have three exams in two days this week.

I hate French.

Two sites to amuse you children.

The first one is McDonald's pathetic attempt to be cool via the internet.

I'd hit it.

Basically, McDonalds wants you to fuck their cheeseburgers.

...I'm feeling blunt today.

The second one is full of rather photoshoppy images of the quite popular Dick and Jane series. Called, The Misadventures of Dick and Jane, it's sure to help children everywhere enjoy learning how to read.

Buses make me claustrophobic.

People at the train station remind me of cattle. You can sit there and yell and honk your horn all you like, but they will still walk infront of the van oblivious. They don't seem to realize that they are each only one hundred fifty or two hundred pounds and collectively we are roughly a tonne and could cause than some serious damage. Some even have the nerve to yell back at you. Bastards.

I am full of pent up anger. I need to be locked in a padded room with a glass of water and a pillow for ten minutes. So many thing in my life aggravate me so much. My eyes hurt.

Tuesday, on the bus, I was bored so I started observing people. This is sort of like OtherSean's (the one who lives in Maine) bus journal, but it's more about what people look like and not what they were talking about. Anyways...

Person sitting across from me, and one seat forward: I thought it was a woman, but on closer inspection, and when he turned his head, I noticed the goatee.

Girl across from Erin: Really bright, purple hair. The lime greeny-yellow strappy shoes with birds on themcontrasted horribly with her fishnets. They weren't even particularly nice fishnets.

Guy sitting in front of person with goatee: Looked a bit like Mr. Imbeau, my metal teacher, except decidedly more aboriginal. Wore a straw cowboy hat with a ratty old feather hanging dejectedly from the hatband.

At this point, I started to count all the people I could see who had gotten a bad dye job on their hair, but quickly lost count.

Girl with fishnets got off and two teenage girls took her place.

Girl now sitting across from Erin: Her toenails were turquoise. She repeatedly kicked off her sandals and put them back on.

Girl next to her: She was rather normal compared to most of the people on the bus. I liked her skirt.

Guy in car: Was staring at the bus driver like he was crazy. For some reason, it made me wonder what was in all of those boxes on his backseat.

Bus driver: Drove like a bat out of Hell. Tried to hit a car that unwisely made a U-turn right in front of the bus. Ran a red light. It reminded me of that band trip to Best.

Guy that looked like Amritt from French class, only taller and older, got on the bus and sat down, looking around self-consciously.

Another guy got on bus. He looked like Riley from metal class. Rode two or three stops and got off. I'm pretty sure his name was Sheldon.

Guy with baby blue jacket: Looked a little bit like Dick, but Erin didn't think so. He had an abnormally large nose, bigger than Katie's, but smaller than Cyrano's from that French movie. He went two stops, then got off. What a waste of money.

Small children were running around unchecked in the middle of Harris Road. Harris Road is a busy street. There were ten or twelve of them altogether.

Erin fell asleep soon after this.

Amritt look-alike moved across the bus and started talking to Imbeau look-alike. They obviously know each other. I couldn't hear them because I was listening to my mp3 player. Imbeau look-alike took off his hat, showed the Amritt look-alike the feather, and put the hat back on.

It took ten minutes to get across the Pitt River bridge. There was an accident that was partially blocking one of the lanes right before the bridge, and the Eastbound counterflow lane was open.

A girl got on near Tim Hortons. I spied a kilt. She's a Carney girl.

A car drove by with a Sikh guy in the backseat. His turban was bright yellow. I thought that was cool.

I poked Erin awake.

We got to Coquitlam Station and got off. I got smacked in the head with the purse of the girl with the turquoise toenails. She didn't apologize.

Waiting for the light to change, I noticed some other people.

First guy waiting for light: He looked like an older, male version of Caylie King. Remember her? His shirt was bright orange.

Other guy at light. Really bad dye job and no neck. Seriously. I mean, I know people with little or no neck, but it looked like his head was being consumed by the rest of his body. The collared jacket didn't help either.

We got to dance relatively okay after that, except that Erin walked into a door that she thought was automated, and it was, but it was less automated than the two more automated doors next to it.

Yes...

That is all.

I'm pretty sure I finished my French...

I think...

My milk tastes icky. I think it's been out for too long.

On the weekend I will write about all the people I observed on the bus on the way to dance.

But not now.

Or tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will be desperately trying to finish my Masque de Fer project. If Mme. McIntyre loses this one, I will strangle her with my bare hands.

Thank you.

Blah.

Dance was horrible. I had no energy. The water I drank made my stomach hurt. The only thing I've had to eat in the last fourty seven hours is a few Timbits I discovered today. Hey, I couldn't resist. I've lost two pounds already. I really need to eat somethnig.

I can't.

Ahhhhh!

I am kind of pissed off with my mother right now. She woke me up this morning and asked me if I was feeling better, but since I had a cat on me and was incapable of speech at the time, all I did was wave at her as if to say, "Can you get back to me in a couple of minutes? By then I should be able to talk." I am definitely not a morning person. I dozed off thinking my mom would wake me up five minutes or so, but the next thing I know, I hear my parents leaving. I feel better today, and I would have gone to school no matter what. Now I'm going to have to present my independent novel study a day after everyone else has finished, work like hell to finish my lantern in ceramics, and catch up on two days of socials and French. I hate missing school. I'm going to have to take the bus to dance because there is no way in hell my dance teacher will let me skip. Stupid mother. The only thing I can't do still is eat, but that's okay because I still have my juice and I'm not hungry right now anyways.

Please excuse me while I write a hate email to my mother.




PS - I am currently listening to happy music. Great Big Sea makes everything better. On the other hand, I was so bored, I read absolutely all of Krisha's blog, comments and all. It makes me weep, the stupid, juvenile comments that, I myself, posted. - I must add, that this was added at approx. 2:30, and if I want to get to dance on time, by 4:30, I must get ready, for I have to leave soon.
F
U
C
K

Why the hell are you reading this?

Oh God, I feel so sick.

I knew I shouldn't have eaten the snapper last night at dinner. I don't even particularly like snapper. I suppose I been worse though. I only threw up three times in the middle of the night (all within the space of an hour and a half, but that's nothing new either) and once before I left for school. At school, I made it through one block, then called my Dad to take me home. While I was there, I made repeated attempts to be sick, just to make my stomach feel better, but there was nothing left in my stomach. The only thing in my stomach at the moment is a little bit of apple juice that I only bought and drank part of because my slight hypoglycemia was kicking in and I could barely walk because I was so dizzy. Everywhere I looked, people were telling me to go home. Even the lunch lady who I buy my cookie from everyday. I went home and immediately want to sleep, not even noticing when my dad left. I forgot to take my contacts out, but whatever. I only got up about half an hour ago. I'm so happy today was a Blues Monday, so I didn't miss much.

Anyways, I feel a little better. My stomach really hurts and I want to throw up again, but I doubt that will happen. I still have energy, which is a good sign, although my foot seems to have fallen asleep.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to do my homework.

Hmmmmm...on the bright side, I can talk normally again. No innocent kiwifruits will need to be killed.

Why is my life falling apart around me?

I shall try not to be too depressed tomorrow.

Yeah, that's right.

Take the quiz: What sport are you destined for?

cross country
cross country! you rock! you have a feel for nature and a strong will. cross country gets you outside where the heat is on. grab your shoes and go for a run-- competition doesnt wait you know!

There's another one too: What specific sport are you? Guess what I got?

Okay?

You know, not being able to talk is really annoying, especially if you're me.








Yeah, that's it. That's all I've got.

I refuse to talk about French. Don't ask me about it. Don't you fucking dare. I shall kick you really hard the next time I see you.